


A Precarious Offering

by TropicalKazoo



Series: Sadly Undeniable [2]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: AFAB Bloodhound (Apex Legends), And physical sensation, Blood and Injury, Bottom Bloodhound (Apex Legends), Canon Non-Binary Character, Gunshot Wounds, Near Death, Other, Painplay, Vaginal Sex, Yes I gave Revenant a retractable dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TropicalKazoo/pseuds/TropicalKazoo
Summary: “The Gods have decided, velafolk.”Cautiously he turns, awaiting yet another end, but there’s a gnawing feeling in the back of his head telling him that it won’t come here.For standing above him is Bloodhound, looking much worse for wear; a hand clinging to a red stain by their side, the other holding a wingman trained on the space now between Revenant’s eyes.“Hello, skinbag,” he drawls out, gaze travelling from the muzzle of the revolver to the glass of Hound’s goggles. “You’ve seen better days.”
Relationships: Bloodhound & Revenant (Apex Legends), Bloodhound/Revenant (Apex Legends)
Series: Sadly Undeniable [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191035
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	A Precarious Offering

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation to the first piece, although reading the other one isn't absolutely necessary to enjoy this work  
> Honestly when I got the first kudo on the other fic I immediately started thinking about this one, so know that your kudos matter!  
> (Translation notes at the end)

It was all too easy, but Revenant isn’t one to complain. Even with his own useless teammate having been eliminated only seconds into the match, this ruthless killer has managed to climb atop the rest and become kill-leader.

One, two, three easy pickings as he stalks his way through Repulsor. He simply couldn’t resist the enchanting song of guns blazing, and as they all fought each other, they never even noticed him crawling in behind them in the tunnel between buildings.

But as he crouches down, elbow deep in a deathbox to restock his ammo, it seems that he let down his guard all too soon, as behind him a gun cocks.

“The Gods have decided, _velafolk_.”

Cautiously he turns, awaiting yet another end, but there’s a gnawing feeling in the back of his head telling him that it won’t come here. 

For standing above him is Bloodhound, looking much worse for wear; a hand clinging to a red stain by their side, the other holding a wingman trained on the space now between Revenant’s eyes.

“Hello, skinbag,” he drawls out, gaze travelling from the muzzle of the revolver to the glass of Hound’s goggles. “You’ve seen better days.”

“ _Andskoti_ , I _vilja_ end you here,” they spit out, breathing ragged and laboured as they struggle to keep an intimidating posture.

An act that falls short when directed at Revenant, who can no longer even remember what such a pitiful emotion as fear feels like. _Joy_ , however, now lights up his sensors - the sight of blood spilling slowly from between Bloodhound’s fingers a thrill too urgent to deny. This is what he was made for, and this is what he wants.

Yet there’s something… _wrong_ about this here, about killing an already wounded animal, even when they’ve got the upper hand here. The way Bloodhound’s hand trembles with fatigue, it takes some of the pleasure away, or at least that’s the reason Revenant decides to believe in.

“You won’t last long enough to enjoy it, pup,” he growls playfully.

Bloodhound holds their own on uncertain feet, body tilting too far to one side in an attempt to relieve some pain from the still bleeding wound. “It… is not my time.” The gun falls from their grasp as they instead reach out to support themself on the nearest wall.

And if Revenant could smile, he would. “Pity. So weak.” He rises up a good head taller than the other legend and stays looming over them as they now slide down the wall, quiet and fading.

Yes it would be so easy to add to his count, to aim his own rifle down at them and pull the trigger before hunting the remaining few teams. But it doesn’t feel like he has any choice here, as if his free will comes with an unforeseen catch. Something has changed, he feels it all too vividly, and hates it with a burning passion.

So with a loud groan of _palpable indignation_ , Revenant kneels down in front of his enemy. From his backpack he pulls a medkit and takes out the disinfectant to unscrew the cap.

“What… what are you doing?” Bloodhound’s voice barely above a weakened whisper, their head lolling to the side to watch.

“What does it look like,” the response is curt.

Revenant moves the gloved hand aside to expose the wound, fresh and titillatingly _wet_ with blood. He doesn’t miss a lot about being made of flesh and bone, but to taste the metallic bite of blood again… it would be a pleasure.

“Th-thank you- _ah!_ ” they hiss as cleansing alcohol pours over the laceration to their side.

“Don’t assume this means anything,” Revenant snaps back at them before tossing the empty bottle aside and reaching for the gauze pads. “You humans and your fragile skinsuits. You’re all just fodder and meat-shields for me.”

“Is that so…” Bloodhound muses, mostly to themself as they try to relax in the hands of a famed assassin.

The memory of last they were alone still so vivid in Revenant’s mind - stored away in parts of himself that he’s not all too keen on revisiting, lest he falls prey to mourning his old self, the fact that he’s no longer human, a disgraceful sorrow. But now, kneeling here with the last person he was intimate with, their life in his hands, it brings back those thoughts he had hoped he could deny, thoughts he hoped would be sated when he last gave in to those animalistic urges.

Curiously, he extends one claw and traces the tip around the edge of the bullet hole, eliciting a whiny, “ _Mmhm-_ ” from behind the mask of the Hound, and Revenant can’t help the lecherous _rumble_ from rolling out at that. The trust that the hunter places in the other is… _foolish_.

He prods a bit deeper, a bit _meaner_ , and revels in the pained, “ _Ah-h,_ ” and foreign curses. A gloved hand reaches up to grab at his arm; a warning, perhaps, or maybe tentative encouragement.

Revenant moves closer to them, bringing their legs around the wiry frame of his hips, one hand gripping tightly at a thigh to keep it there, his motionless face only mere inches away from the Hound’s as to not miss a single gasp or euphoric exhale.

And when he pushes inside to the second knuckle of his index finger, the moans become irrefutable. Every lascivious little sound from Bloodhound washes Revenant in _lust_ that curls together in his gut, and he himself can’t help the well pleased, baritone hum.

“ _Félagi_ , please- _ah-a-_ ” they _beg_ , so pliable and willing for one caged by their pursuer. 

The sim tsks at those helpless, _needy_ whimpers, keeping the pressure on the source of his own delight. “What would your Gods say if they could hear how you plea, how much you crave me; your foe, a _vel_.”

Before Bloodhound can even attempt words, they _keen_ at the cruel force moving around inside their bleeding mortality, every shallow thrust causes the entirety of their body to tense up, which only proves to be a most _interesting_ and _exhilarating_ notion to the other.

“Hm… Will you bleed and suffer like this?” Revenant asks, circling the edge of the wound still.

Through gasps and groans, the Hound manages to say, “I… I will not… perish here. I will _vinna-_ _We_ … will _vinna_.”

A dangerous thought. _We_. _Them_.

Silence befalls the two, as Revenant contemplates on how willing he is to risk victory for the sake of his _sensual desires_. In the far off distance there're echoes of battle, the blaring alarms announces that the ring has started moving, but looking at the map he can tell that they’re safe here.

For a killing machine, he sure is weak to the undeniable attraction of the Gods’ finest flesh and blood; things he usually doesn’t allow to _live_. But the chance to feel again what once was, to cling to that last slight string of humanity within…

Slender fingers reach beneath the tunica, freeing the button and pulling at the zipper of Bloodhound’s pants, all the while without Revenant ever looking away from his own blazing eyes in the reflection of Hound’s goggles. One day he’d like to see how _affected_ this hunter becomes in his grasp, how lustful their gaze might be, lips parted to moan and whimper and cry as he enters them, how their brow might furrow with euphoria as he _fucks them_ relentlessly.

Till then he’ll settle for their satisfied sigh when his steely cold and smooth fingers slip between their soaking lips, circling their throbbing clit with his thumb, spreading around their slickness till his hand is a dripping mess.

There’s a noise of complaint when he retrieves his hand again to lather up his reddish cock with their _wet excitement_. But the lack of contact is short-lived, as Revenant lines up the head of his girthy erection with Hound’s hungering hole, and when he pushes in there’s a wave of bliss accompanied gloriously with how the other cries out in rapture. Bloodhound brings both hands to the assassin’s shoulders, gripping hard as their body clenches with the same fervor and elation around the dick fully sheathed in their pussy.

Revenant, too, can’t keep his hands away, moving them down to the hunter’s broad, fit hips, where he digs in his claws, latching on to the pale flesh, untouched by the sun for decades. With a firm grasp on them, he pulls Hound as close as is physically possible, forcing them down onto his cock and rutting them together; what little pelvic floor he has he grinds against the other’s clit to the rhythm of their _audible pleasure_.

It’s… different than last. Not exactly _better_ , nor worse, just not the same. Perhaps the gore and violence this killing machine has had the luxury of witnessing today has made me _hornier_ than usual, or maybe it’s that Bloodhound themself is so weak and frail in this moment, blood still dripping from where Revenant enjoyed probing his finger into.

Nevertheless it’s best not to think too long on such frivolous things, when he now has the chance to ravage the Hound once more. 

He rises up just slightly onto his knees, creating enough space between himself and the floor to _thrust_ up into the wet, tight muscles of Bloodhound’s hole; their entire weight carried by Revenant like it’s nothing, as he guides them up and down in tandem with his own moving hips.

And the weary, _lustful_ hunter lets him do as he pleases, never a protest, never a no, instead their encouraging moans are plentiful-

“ _Ah- Gods, yes-_ ” followed by mumbled curses in their mother tongue that Revenant can’t follow quick enough to translate, yet even if the words were clearer, he’s too entranced with _pounding_ his silicone flesh into their hungering, slippery pussy, grunting passionately at how they restrict around him.

Bloodhound tips forward, body colliding with Revenant’s stable frame, and there’s a flash of worry- a _barely there_ sense of concern that startles the sim, only for it to be gone as quick as it arrived when arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Don’t- hah- _don’t stop_ ,” they demand, head awkwardly pressed against Revenant’s shoulder the best they can with their helmet still on.

He rumbles in confirmation - a thundering growl of barely contained desire, and starts slamming _harder_ , _vigorously_ , lifting Hound up higher before dropping them down to impale their _needy hole_ on his _steely cock_. Sticky skin slaps loudly against the steel of his thighs, every thrust dragging the head of his dick across all those splendid spots that drives out ecstatic moans. And as he _rams viciously_ into the tightening, carnal body of his prey, it won’t be long yet before his rampant orgasm will reach the peak.

“ _I’m so close, arrh-_ ” the other murmurs weakly.

A white-hot rush of _pleasure_ shoots through his spine, crashing against every bolt and nerve he consists of, sensors overloading with heat and an ecstatic _buzzing_ that spreads like electricity from his gut to _everywhere_. Past the blaring alarms and tightly shut eyes, he hears the finishing cry of Bloodhound as their body clenches around Revenant’s cock still buried deep, the vice like grip urging forth a few final _thrusts_ into that _delicious heat_ , before they both grow motionless.

  
  


Who knows how long they sit in the quietness like so; Bloodhound limp but breathing, panting, gasping, swallowing air and spit, Revenant a bit _too kind_ in his patience, waiting for his enemy to recover fully.

“ _Round 3!_ ” echoes through the arena, and this time they’re not inside the ring.

“Hey,” Revenant groans. His hands remain on where he has undoubtedly marked the hunter’s hips with his claws, unsure of how to get free as the other practically _hangs_ on him. “We have to move.”

“Leave me, _félagi_ , for I am too wounded and powerless to continue this match.” Hound finally leans off of the simulacrum and instead supports themself on the wall behind.

The perfect killing machine sits idly by, watching the rise and fall of every laboured breath Bloodhound can muster, contemplating, _conflicted_. This is a victory, in some perverse sense. When this Hound gets eliminated it will count as _his_ kill, yet… disgustingly enough, that is not what he _wants_. And that is just his burden to bear.

Without words, he sheaths his cock and wraps his fingers around the waistline of Bloodhound’s trunks and pants before tugging them up again.

“What now, _vel_?” they complain lowly, their speech sluggish from exhaustion.

Revenant tears through the packaging of a gauze pad, pulls a strip of medical tape off, to finish bandaging Bloodhound with such finesse that only comes from having repeated the task numerous times. He then stands up to his full towering height, and meets with the other’s shielded gaze.

And he extends his arm with an open palm, offering a syringe. Offering a hand. Offering a form of _partnership_.

Bloodhound waits only for a brief moment before reaching out.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation notes:  
> Velafolk = Machine person  
> Andskoti = Devil  
> Vilja = Will  
> Félagi = Fellow, friend, companion, partner (non sexual)  
> Vel = Machine/s  
> Vinna = Win  
> -  
> Translations taken from the lore book and my own personal experience with Nordic languages  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
